No Regrets
by Kasidy92
Summary: "You must have no regrets." Her mutter was barely audible, yet it echoed throughout the hallways of Dart's mind... (A Sequel to "Let Me Love You"!)
1. Chapter 1

DISCAIMER: The following is a fan-based fiction. I do not own Legend of Dragoon nor its characters.

* * *

Dart held his breath, grimacing as he stood on the outskirts of the Evergreen Forest. Swallowing down the uneasy feeling in his throat, he quietly turned his head, giving one final look to the snow-buried remains of a town that was Neet. He let out his shaky breath, clearing his throat as his eyes became moist. A sharp wind blew along his face and he squeezed his stinging eyes shut. Once it had passed, he peered once more at the valley of burnt wood and collapsed stone.

"I'll come back," he whispered, unsure to whom exactly. "I'll... I'll stop him... and come back." His head facing forward once more, he stepped solemnly into the forest.

"You must have no regrets"

He repeated the words in his head. Defeating the evil spirit that had plagued Lavitz' soul, Dart had marveled as his friend used his last bits of life force to make a path for his companions. The Signet Sphere of Mayfil, their final hope in saving the Moon That Never Sets, was within their grasp at last! Without hesitation, Dart eagerly approached the shining beam. He didn't make it three steps before a firm hand grabbed his shoulder. Annoyed at whomever was trying to stop him, he shot a glare over his shoulder, one that soon dissolved as he saw who had disturbed him.

"Just wait, Dart," Rose muttered in her usual calm voice. For a moment, Dart was incredulous. She seemed so unaffected, as if the reappearance of their comrade, and his subsequent generosity, meant nothing more to her than a random act of kindness from a town dweller. Now she was to stop him, when there was possibly so little time before his father would appear to claim the signet for himself?

"What do you mean 'wait'?" he started, turning around to face her. "Lavitz has shown us the way. We can't waste time-"

"Once we go up this road of souls, there will be no return," she interrupted. A confused frown materialized on his face. Before he could question her, she continued. "Yes, the signet is up there. But that cannot be the only thing..." She glanced to the side, her eyes narrowed in thought. "... perhaps it is our destiny that awaits us-"

"We're wasting time, Rose!" The entire group froze, eyes glancing from a seething Dart to a visibly shocked Rose. He had never yelled at her before. "We can't let my father win this time!"

Closing her agape mouth, Rose blinked. "Even if he arrives before us, he will not destroy the signet." She narrowed her eyes once more, this time in condescension. "He prefers an audience, if you haven't realized it yet."

"I'm not going to take that chance," Dart shot back, clenching his fists. "I won't be tricked by him again."

"If you walk into this without being prepared, you will be tricked. Trust me, Dart."

Dart had always been grateful Rose had such amazing reflexes. Especially then, as he foolishly drew his sword. How bold she was to question him. They were saving the world dammit! They didn't have time to think when the fate of trillions rested on their actions! Enraged, his swung his blade, ignoring the shocked gasps and protests from his friends. "NO!" he growled his answer.

The sound of clashing metal pierced through the room, disturbing the spirits that swam about in the air.

Panting in anger, he stared into the dark eyes of the warrior who had provoked him. The same eyes that were always so cold and calculating. The same eyes that narrowed and taunted at the most dangerous monsters.

The same eyes he had so many times lovingly gazed into.

'What... the hell?' were his thoughts as Rose pushed him away, her rapier clenched in a shaking hand.

Albert had been the only one brave enough to intervene. Hours later, as they made their way out of the city and back to Zenebatos, he had quietly suggested to Dart that it was an evil spirit that made him lash out. Much like the spirit that controlled Lavitz, it was undoubtedly attracted to his anger and attempted to inhabit Dart. The king had beamed reassuringly at his deduction. Dart merely shivered.

Once aboard Coolon, Dart had requested the kindly winged creature to take each member wherever they wanted. They had one day to prepare: to say goodbyes, pray to the gods, make amends. Each member wholeheartedly agreed, save for Rose, who silently nodded and kept her attention on the horizon. She was the first to leave, asking to be dropped off in Ulara. As Coolon hovered above the entrance, she paused, glancing over her back at Dart. Just as it seemed their eyes would meet, she looked forward.

"You must have no regrets." Her mutter was barely audible, yet it echoed throughout the hallways of Dart's mind. He watched in sadness as she leaped off the side of Coolon's wing, cursing at himself for his silence.

Haschel was the next to leave, returning to Rogue. Suprisingly, Kongol offered to follow, seemingly interested in the tropical island of fighters and reluctant to return to his bandit ravished homeland. Then Albert in Fletz, no doubt to spend his time with Princess Emille. Meru and Miranda returned to Deningrad. Of course, Miranda would spend time with Queen Theresa and the other Sacred Sisters and Meru with her family in the Forest of the Winglies; however, Dart was troubled as he rested with Coolon at the river that snaked through the Evergreen Forest. Rose's words swam through his head, much like the river.

"You must have no regrets," he muttered quietly. Right after Albert arrived in Fletz, Dart was to be the next on dropped off. Seles seemed like the obvious place for him to return to. He knew he would be welcome, even by Shana's parents, who had been kept from the truth of their daughter's disappearance. Yet as they continued on and debated who would be next, he kept silent as Meru's excitement at being reunited with her parents became evident.

Watching as Coolon drank from the cold river, Dart sighed, earning the attention of the beast. "You are having trouble deciding where to be taken, no?" he articulated in his low, rich voice.

Dart looked to the ground, crouching down near the bank of the river. "Not really," he tried to assure him. Looking at his reflection, he blinked wearily, aware of his tired, dejected tone.

Closing his eyes, the dragon-like creature flapped his wings gently, levitating just high enough to move under the shade of a nearby tree. "Your countenance betrays you," he grunted, mirroring Dart's thoughts. "Have you no home to return to?"

Dart quickly shook his head. "I do, actually."

"Then you are uneasy about returning?"

"... something like that." Slowly, Dart shifted onto his bottom, folding his arms and propping them on his knees. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scents of the forest, trying his hardest to sort out his emotions without getting frustrated. An hour of silence went by as he pondered what he should do. 'It doesn't make sense', he told himself. 'Seles is my home. It's where I grew up. It's where my friends are.'

_You must have no regrets._

Dart frowned, for the first time actually trying to forget Rose's words. How they haunted him. It was probably his punishment for losing control in Mayfil. He shuddered as he remembered the rage she had made him feel. Or was it the evil spirits? As desperate as he was to accept Albert's words, a frightening part of himself would not be contented with such an explanation.

'What if... I wanted to do that?' His thoughts immediately went back to their fight in the Death Frontier, just days after Rose was revealed to be the Black Monster.

When he really tried to kill her.

Even after he refused, stating that she was no longer the Black Monster, he wondered if he had done the right thing. The Black Monster was his enemy, he had told himself his whole life. It slaughtered his family and friends. It decimated his home.

And yet, it... she had traveled with him. Protected him when attacked by the dragon Feyrbrand. Held him after he drowned in the Illissa Bay. Kept quiet as he constantly called her alter ego a monster. Rolled her eyes whenever he inadvertently vowed to murder her. Cried as she wished for nothing more than to forget the horrible role assigned to her over eleven millenia ago. And he had forgiven her and comforted her. He had pitied her and apologized to her.

He had made love to her.

Slowly, Dart opened his eyes, patient as he waited for them to adjust. Looking in the sky, he calculated the time: no more than an hour past noon. Glancing over at Coolon, he was startled to see the creature's eyes upon him.

"Have you decided?" he said simply.

Dart nodded. "Yes. I'm going home."

"It is in the country Serdio, correct? I can fly there in less than three hours."

Standing up, Dart dusted off his pants. He knew he had to act fast before this sudden burst of resolve escaped him. "No," he muttered. "There's another place I call home."

* * *

Kasidy... what are you doing... KASIDY... STAHP IT!

... WHAT IS IT WITH ME AND THIS GAME! O.O;;

OKAY. This has to be last one. I've got two more chapters planned for this, as well as "A Dragon's Memory." Then I'm done with LoD. DONE. I need to find another "game with so much potential but has left out a lot of plot and character developement so it's easy to make fan fiction" game.

Also, if you didn't take note of the description, this is a sequel of sorts to "Let Me Love You", so I don't want anyone PMing me all surprised at the fact that Dart and Rose have made love =w=;; In fact, in all my stories, it is very obvious that I love DartxRose. So no being surprised by now if you've read previous ones! XD


	2. Chapter 2

Rose was frozen as she stood at the exit of Charle Frahma's home. For many seconds, she was still; closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly in an attempt to ignore the overwhelming scent of roses in the air. She wasn't sure how long she had stood in that position. No doubt, many had passed by, some giving the warrior confused looks while others merely smiled and walked on, chalking the moment up to Rose's strange behavior. Just as the beaming afternoon sun became too much for her to bear, the familiar sound of light footsteps became audible.

"Rosie, darling," the high pitched elderly voice rang in the hallway. Looking over her shoulder, Rose stared blankly.

"What is it Charle?" she muttered quietly. Turning around fully, she sighed as she viewed her friend. A single tear had escaped from the corner of the Wingly's right eye, one that she quickly shook away with a delicately clenched hand. One that seemed to be holding something, Rose noticed.

"Rosie," Charle cooed, hesitating before she grabbed one of Rose's tough, gloved hands. She released the contents of her fist upon her worn palm. "Are you absolutely sure about this, sweetie?"

Rose wasted no time in replying, nodding her head promptly and firmly, lest the uneasy feeling in her gut intervene. Peering down at the stiff ribbon she and Charle held, she cleared her throat, running her fingers one last time over the luxurious, silky fabric. "This is the last time I will be killing the God of Destruction. I'm sure of it." She pushed the black choker until Charle's hand, slowly pressing down on Charle's soft fingers until they clamped upon the choker frailly. ". . . I won't be needing this anymore."

For the first time in ages, Rose watched as the light from Charle's eyes faded into misery. Her shoulders dropped, the look of anguish on her face was visible for only a second before the Wingly turned on her heel. "Of course," she quietly agreed. "You've performed your job well, my dear."

Rose was silent as she let her words sink in. Indeed, she had performed her job well. And for so long. By the gods, it was so long. That is, until a certain set of twin princesses was born, breaking the warrior's perfect record.

"I'll be here until tomorrow morning," Rose breathed. She watched Charle's solemn, shaking back for only a moment more before finally exiting the mansion. Her heart dropped as the gentle sobs of her friend echoed.

"Thank you, Charle Frahma," she whispered, unsure if even Charle with her advanced hearing could hear. And perhaps it was best if she didn't. ". . . I'm sorry."

Rose hadn't walked three steps before she found her hand instinctively reach for her throat. It would take quite a while for her to get used to a bare neck. Or perhaps she would never. After all, she had worn it for over eleven thousand years. It had taken her a century to become accustomed to immortality, and it would probably take the same amount of time to adjust back to mortal life.

'I'll be long dead before I know it,' she thought with a smirk.

Passing through the green teleportors, she grimaced as the smell of roses became stronger. Standing before the familiar water fountain, it was borderline unbearable. Even so, she didn't hesitate to approach the fountain, finding a seat upon the smooth, sun-baked stones.

Charle had to know she hated roses. Not so much the aesthetics, but the overwhelming, sweet scent. At the end of the Dragon Campaign, when Rose began her seemingly endless pursuit of the Moon Child, Charle began the tradition of planting a rose bush every time she saved the world.

Looking over her shoulder, Rose gazed at the small valley of bushes. The first five bushes, planted millenia ago, still bloomed with crisp red flowers. Even when Miata, Charle's gardener, decided to plant the "babies", animated blossoms that had petals in the shape of mouths and ate anything within reach, the roses continued to thrive. After the fifth bush, Charle had taken upon herself to fill all of Ulara with the flowers.

'And so the putrid scent spread,' Rose thought with a snort. But she could never tell her friend to stop. Not when it seemed so important her.

Leaning back on her elbows, she let her head fall back, smiling as a breeze passed through her hair. It really was a great day, despite the melancholy of losing her immortality.

As the breeze settled. Rose closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight once more. Letting out a quiet sigh, she was ready to let the summer day lull her to sleep.

Then she thought to herself. . .

Something seemed familiar. . .

Peeling her eyes open, she glanced to her side. "Shit," she grumbled.

Nearly one month ago, she had sat in this same position. It had been nighttime, the only sound audible the rushing water of the fountain. A similar gentle breeze had soothed her worries away.

And beside her had sat Dart.

"Dart," she whispered his name sadly. Immediately, she regretted it as a thousand images swam through her head.

She remembered their first meeting. His expression was oddly cute then, she had thought, as he gawked at her calm countenance while the dragon Feyrbrand hunted them down. Then their first battle. The naivety of the boy truly was an annoyance. Indeed, it was hard for her to believe that Zeig's succesor was such an inexperienced warrior.

Then time passed. Their challenges increased. Friends died. Enemies seemed to get stronger with every step they took. Rose witness as Dart grew from a headstrong optimistic, too-kind-for-his-own-good warrior, into the man he was now. She closed her eyes as her memory lead her to their conversation at the very fountain she sat upon now. It was the night he would later claim to be the moment he realized his feelings for her.

'Such an incredible notion,' she smirked. 'You were trying to kill me just hours before.'

The memory of a piercing clash of blades disrupted her warm reminisce.

It had happened again, she realized. He had tried to kill her. . . or had he? Though she spoke not a word after their altercation, her thoughts were loud and terrible in her mind, the voices in her head screaming at each other in an attempt to figure out "why".

Of course, she would figure soon that he wasn't himself. Albert had reassured the validity of her theory with a similar deduction of his own. Evil spirits, he had said.

She grimaced. She knew that place was a fucking nightmare. She supposed this confirmed it for the rest.

'But even so. . . '

Sitting up straight, she flipped her dark hair behind her back. "Don't be an idiot," she admonished herself with an unsure sigh. "He's still Dart." Of course, he was being controlled. He would never draw his blade against her with such malice.

'Not when he. . . not when we. . .'

Rose stood abruptly. Glancing at the fountain's water, she noted the mix of expressions on her face. Amidst the hurt and sadness was a fierce determination. One she hadn't felt since she first started her campaign against the Moon Child. She must save the world, no matter how much it hurt. It had been her mantra for years. Breathing in slowly, she clenched her fist.

Perhaps it was time for her to be a little selfish.

"Rose?" she heard the rich voice of Miata call from afar. Her eyes still on the water, she watched as her reflection was joined by another. "Are you well, Rose?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Miata, what time is it?"

"Why, it is noon." Miata frowned as she saw the curve in Rose's lip. "Charle sent me to ask if you were ready for lunch."

Blinking, Rose finally brought her eyes to Miata; on her face was an expression one could only dream to see on Rose. It nearly made the Wingly blush.

"Please tell Charle 'thanks' for me," she muttered before turning on her heel. "But I still have something I must do before we approach the signet."

"Oh? Something more important than a meal with a friend?" Rose heard the Wingly snort. Without looking back, Rose nodded once more, earning her a weary sigh. "You've always had a habit of leaving without saying goodbye properly."

"I'll return," Rose muttered. "When I've saved the world. Then we'll have lunch." Waiting for a reply, a small smile crept across her face as she heard Miata begin walking, quietly admonishing Rose for her flightiness. She began walking herself, her pace quickening with her resolve. Nearing the teleporter that lead to the Death Frontier, she wondered if she was wasting her time. If she knew Dart, and if he heeded her advice, he would be at the one place he had always avoided, even when they were only hours away.

Of course, there was no knowing if she would make it in time, even with her strong Dragoon wings. Hell, she wasn't a hundred percent sure if it was the place she should be going.

Standing before the green teleportor, she recalled the last thing she had told him.

_You must have no regrets._

The she had fled from Coolon, hoping the desperation to get away wasn't evident. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from breaking. The only thing she could do to keep herself from throwing her body against Dart in a deep embrace. From kissing him until that rueful, pleading look on his face would vanish.

From making herself look like a damn fool in love in front of her companions.

Wasting no more time, she stepped into the bright light.

* * *

I feel like I'm slacking. I used to average on six page chapters for ongoing stories. . . meh.

I also feel compelled to thank my boyfriend, whom I have graciously given the title "Beta Reader Baby". Despite his intense hatred of Legend of Dragoon, and his irrational disgust of Dart and Rose as a couple, he lovingly agrees to look over my stories, making violent and incredulous quips at each character as well as pointing out syntax errors, typos, and the like. Thank you Beta Reader Baby XD

Two more chapters to go woot! Or perhaps three? Still deciding. . .


	3. Chapter 3

The trek had taken no longer than three hours. Making a brief visit to Deningrad, Dart had quietly prepared himself. It had taken much tact on his part, way more than he was used to, to convince Coolon that he merely wanted to travel alone because it was so close. He deserved a break, Dart tried to argue, after practically flying around the world, something he would have to do once more the next day to recover everyone. Dart wasn't sure whether his words had worked, or perhaps Coolon saw through his cool countenance and sensed the warrior's uneasiness. Either way, the beast finally agreed to let him alone and the two agreed to meet up the next day with Miranda and Meru.

At last, Dart was alone.

He figured the path he must take might be full of hazards, having been long neglected. He filled his traveling bag with potions and purifiers; any food, he decided, he would just hunt for. The last thing he bought before setting out was a long, heavy, fur-lined coat. Though he had not been to the place since childhood, he clearly recalled the unforgiving low temperature, so cold it would without a doubt pierce through his thick clothes and armor. Standing on the edge of the city, he made one final list of all his supplies.

"That's everything," he muttered quietly as he tied his bag shut. "Nothing left to keep me from going." Besides his own apprehension, he grimly added in his thoughts. Regardless, he began to walk, letting his memory of the terrain lead him back to his home.

As he navigated the worn, treaded path of the Evergreen Forest, Dart was instantly reminded of his previous journey, the one he had taken six years ago in hopes of finding the Black Monster. For four years, he had walked alone, using the journey as a chance to familiarize himself with the world, as well as with himself. Looking back at all the contemplation, every moment of reflection and meditation, he began to wonder how much he was actually learning about himself. Rather than reflecting on his life choices or goals, more often than not, he recalled pondering about nothing else but his objective: how to find the Black Monster, what are its powers, what to do when he found it. It wasn't until he came across Haschel, whom he trained and journeyed with for his final year, that he thought of anything else except revenge. And then it was nothing but battles and wars. How to become a more capable fighter. How to train and improve quickly.

Pausing as the path began to fork, Dart had to think for a moment. Wasn't there a third pathway? Shrugging, he kept on forward, stepping into the unpaved dirt and grass. Of course, there wouldn't be a road leading there, not when there was no need by the average traveler.

"What a waste," he mumbled sadly. "Five years spent thinking about nothing but revenge and fighting." Looking ahead, he watched as the ground seemed to gradually whiten in the distance.

Snow. He was getting closer.

Peering from side to side, Dart found it a bit curious that he had yet to face any monsters on his way. Sure, since the wolf Kamuy had been healed, there was substantially less danger. Even so, as he met nothing but the occasional squirrel scurrying up a tree, he couldn't help but feel confused. Soa knows, he wasn't used to this kind of peace. Not when for the past month he had been fighting every terrible monster imaginable, and many more that even seasoned warriors couldn't fathom. Not even Rose had suspected. . .

'Rose. . .'

He sighed in frustration, forcing himself to banish his train of thought. He wondered how long he would have to do so. After separating with Coolon, his goal had been to forget about the dark warrior, if only temporarily. His main focus had to be his journey home. Many times in Deningrad, he had lost track of time, caught up in thoughts of the woman. The armor store was the worst. Why did she have to be a warrior, he had dumbly thought. Everything he looked at, even weapons he knew she would never use such as a bow or spear, reminded him of her, and he eventually decided against updating his equipment just to keep himself from thinking of her.

It was cowardly, he knew. Eventually, he would have to face her. He would have to explain his outburst in Mayfil to her. Eventually, he would have to look into those beautiful, cold, dark eyes and apologize. . . he would have to face her judgment, be it a lethal glare, viciously damning words, or a swift fist across his cheek.

He remembered the last time she had punched him. A small smile crept across his face. His eyes became hooded in reminisce. . . what a dangerous chance he had taken then. And by the gods, that was one he would never regret-

The impact of his face against the tough bark of a tree startled him.

'Right. . . no thinking about Rose,' he reminded himself, wiping blood from the quickly swelling cut on his cheek.

It wasn't long before his coat started to seem a little less warm. As the sound of crunching snow beneath his feet became audible, Dart felt his heart sink deeper with every step. He stopped in his tracks as the trees became thinner. The brush and the grass had all but vanished, covered in a clean sheet of snow. Letting out a breath, he stood very still.

Between the bare trees, he viewed the remains of Neet.

For many minutes, he moved not a hair, as if frozen over by the harsh cold itself. When he finally took a step forward, he grimaced. His boot seemed to crash unto the earth like thunder.

Another step. The petrifying, booming sound reverberated through every inch of his being. It reached into the deepest, darkest crevices of his fragile heart, hell bent on breaking the man into tiny, pathetic pieces.

In seconds, he was on his knees, fighting to keep down his lunch.

"Dammit," he cursed fiercely. His body convulsed violently. 'Dammit, don't do this, Dart. Not when you've come this far.' With the greatest care, he pushed himself to stand, dearly clenching his stomach. His brow was moist with sweat, even as the frigid air whipped at is face. Walking once more, the thunderous sound had quieted. Just the slightest.

'Pathetic,' he admonished himself as he neared the broken village. 'Absolutely fucking pathetic.'

Finally releasing his abdomen, he decided instead to clench the hilt of his sword. Half out of a need to touch something familiar, half in case any monsters wandered throughout.

The first thing he came upon was a lamp post. Though the neck was dented and the glass candle holder broken, it stood firmly. For a full minute, Dart simply stared at the charred, black metal. A blurry, distant memory teased his brain. With it, the sensation of pain. Dirt on his back. An angry middle aged woman picking him up, patting his back gently while chastising him.

'Probably tried to climb it when I was little,' he giggled in spite of his anxiety. He continued on.

It was the same everywhere he went. He would recognize some old relic or building and another memory would pass through his thoughts. Some times he would smile, other times frown. The one time he felt sad came from a memory of a cat he once played with and the alleyway he had watched her die in. Glancing warily at the shells of buildings, burnt and barely standing, he felt the tension in his stomach ease. For whatever reason, he had expected a ghost town, or a barren, neglected field where the village used to stand. Hell, a foolish part of him wondered if the town still was still smoking and freshly ruined like the day he last saw it. Stopping to stare at the remains of what he suspected to be the town church, he let out a surprisingly relieved breath.

It was. . . peaceful.

He felt at home.

Turning the corner, he frowned as he saw a curiously polished stone sculpture among the desolation. One he certainly had no recollection of, despite his youthful memory. It only took a quick scan across the top of the sculpture to learn what it was:

MEMORIAL FOR THOSE CLAIMED

ON THE TRAGIC NIGHT OF THE BLACK FLAME

MAY THEY NEVER BE FORGOTTEN

Dart practically sprinted to the thing. His knees sinking into the snow, he spied the plethora of names etched into the cold stone. The hazy faces he had long remembered became all the more clear as he read each name out loud. Friends, teachers, neighbors, even the angry middle aged woman. They all became vivid characters in his head. His heart swelled with every new citizen.

He was silent as he came across the most familiar name. Swallowing loudly, he reached out a gentle hand.

". . . Claire Feld. . . "

His hand trembled, not so much from pain than something else, as his fingertips brushed against the bitter cold letters.

". . . Zieg Feld. . . "

In an instant, all other images in his mind were gone, replaced with the frighteningly clear vision of his parents standing side by side. Their faces beamed. . . proudly? Lovingly? Apologetically? Dart would never know what look the two directed at their since grown son.

Focusing in on his father, Dart nearly lost it. How great it felt not be looked at with a sneer or with anger. Only that warm familiar smile of a man not possessed. A man whom for his whole life Dart knew only as his father and not his enemy.

And then he actually did lose it.

He cared not for the screaming pain across his cheeks as they became damp. Nor did he care if his loud, wretched sob aroused the interest of any nearby monsters.

Crying for the first time in eighteen years, he didn't give a damn about anything.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes (Now at the beginning... because why the fuck not, I guess?)

I swore to myself that I wasn't going to write this next chapter until my final exams were done... I also swore at the end of "Let Me Love You" I was going to write something other than DartxRose fics... ^^;; Ah, it's not like anyone's complaining but me. I had two days with nothing to do and I was itching to at least start it. So, surprise everyone! XD

Final note: this chapter helped me realize how much of a fucking crush a have on Rose.

* * *

Dart knelt before the memorial for nearly an hour. Though his limbs ached from being stationary in such an awkward position, he ignored the numbing sensation, reading over every etched name countless times. Each time his eyes passed over the names of his mother and father, he felt a warm tremor in his heart, helping him forget the frigid temperatures. He could stay there forever, he imagined, enjoying the warmth that just being there gave him.

But eventually, it did get too cold. The overcast sky had since cleared, revealing a setting sun, and if his memory hadn't yet failed him, the brutal cold of Neet's nighttime was something he was not prepared to face. His legs trembling, he climbed to his feet, slapping snow off his pants on the way up.

Giving the memorial one last glance over, he smiled sadly, bowing his head before somberly walking off. The same remnants of buildings passing by in the sides of his vision, he swallowed in the cold air of the broken town, looking back but once on the outskirts before retracing his steps through the bare trees. He would come back, he promised. Perhaps annually, if he could stomach it.

Clenching his jaw, he frowned at his own thoughts. 'Not if. When.'

Traveling through the Evergreen Forest, he wondered if this was what Rose had in mind. Every so often, he whispered her advice as he walked, like a mantra driving him forward. 'Then again,' he pondered, 'how could she know I'd never visited Neet?'

Perhaps even she wasn't directly talking to him? There were five others with them, he had to remind himself. It may well have been a blanket statement for all of them; of course, they each had their own set of dysfunctional pasts and qualities.

He barely noticed the shift in terrain as he ventured through the forest. Stopping to take a drink from the river, he was a bit startled to see the green grass below his feet. His eyes had naturally adjusted to the vanishing light, and his coat felt much warmer. Looking up at the burnt orange twilight sky, he breathed in the sweet forest air.

Suddenly, spending the night under the stars seemed like a wonderful idea.

The steps came naturally, easier actually without the presence of his companions. Of course, he enjoyed traveling and camping with everyone, but he would always work most efficiently when alone, as he had done for so many years before. Coming across a moderately flat clearing, he started what he imagined was the thousandth fire is in life. Finding a meal didn't take long. The forest was filled with small packs of boars, many of them nocturnal and slow moving; using the shorter blade he kept for hunting, he uttered a quiet apology before slaying the first stout boar he saw. It was small, he noticed, but seemed mature enough to kill. Slicing the dead beast open, he examined the uncontaminated muscle with the slightest of triumphant smiles. A perfect catch.

As his dinner roasted, he stripped himself of his long coat, laying it along the ground and sitting upon the fur lining. It wasn't too cool now that he had gotten away from the snowy terrain, he decided, and his own armor and clothes would be adequate. Watching the flames lick at the boar meat, he heaved a tired sigh.

"Now," he muttered quietly. Leaning forward, arms resting on knees, he relaxed his body. ". . . what to do about Rose."

With the mere utterance of her name, all the painful thoughts and memories he had forced himself to stifle for hours came flooding to the center of his conscious, spilling out like the contents of a worn, abused sack finally ripping at the seams. In the midst of his uneasiness, Dart couldn't help but feel relieved.

At last, he could focus all of his attention on the woman he loved, enjoying the freedom to once more envision her in his thoughts. Her poised, graceful stature, always looking purposeful even when she was relaxed. The rustic, elegant violet armor that adorned her strong frame beautifully. Her lush, long hair, black as the lethal magic she cast upon her foes, lovely whether it's falling down her back in a thick curtain or whipping wildly in the wind during battle. Her face. . . were there any words he could find to fully describe such intense, ethereal beauty? This woman, with her thin lips, so easily softened by the run of a tongue upon its pink surface. Her eyes, gorgeously dark pools embellished with shadowed lids and and coal black lashes. Pale skin a balance of worn and smooth frontiers, begging to be tread upon by lips or hands or anything else that should be granted the permission.

The rush of passion that swelled within his chest was overwhelming; he let out a sigh that even he knew sounded much too longing and desperate for a man. If he ever had a doubt in his mind about his feelings for the woman, he could banish them there and now. He was in love with Rose in the best and worst way possible, in a way that both excited and emasculated him. More than anything in the world then, perhaps even more than saving Shana, he wanted to find her, wherever she may be in this damned world, and hold her and claim her as his own in any way he could.

A particularly loud crackle from the fire brought him back to reality. Blinking at the burning fat that hung from the raw meat, Dart cleared his throat. 'Right,' he thought in despair . 'None of that's gonna happen unless I make this right.'

In light of his outburst in Mayfil and refusal to face her before they parted ways, he wondered just how much trouble he was in. Surely, she saw him as a cowardly leader, or at least an embarrassed idiot.

'Probably both,' he thought with a grimace. Running his hands through his blonde bangs, he let out a quiet groan. His racing mind finally settled on the final memory he had of Rose. The chillingly stoic yet somber glance over her shoulder before she leaped off the side of Coolon in the early hours of the day. It was that look that haunted him the most as they traversed the skies, and now it was back, burning into his mind with such ferocity, as if vengeful for his hours of neglect.

"Dammit," he cursed with a gruff breath, returning his arms to his knees. As if he didn't already feel like an asshole enough.

Closing his eyes in an attempt to escape the image, Dart imagined once more their impending reunion. Though it pained him to admit it, he held a small, pitiful shred of hope that there would be no need for words. That she would just glare and snort at him like always, as if his fit of rage was no different than the myriad of fuck ups she had experienced with him over the course of their journey. Hell, another fist in the face seemed gloriously inviting.

". . . no," he whispered.

Opening his eyes, he stared down at the fur coat, grinding his teeth as he ruefully realized how foolish his thoughts were. There was no way around it.

Lifting his gaze towards the flames once more, he puffed out a dejected sigh.

"We need to talk."

Agonizingly on cue, he clenched his jaw at the sound of footsteps. He didn't reach for his sword, nor did he turn around as his instincts were trying so hard to dictate. Keeping his gaze on the fire, he felt all the comfort and tranquility he had gained over the past hour, all the peace he was working to maintain shrivel up into a pathetic ball and dissolve.

The presence behind his back was overbearing. He heard the gentle shifting of leather, tough and distressed against the ground, and soon upon the fur coat. So damn close. Every muscle in his body was tense as two arms snaked around his abdomen. Peering down, he immediately recognized the black leather gloves that rested against his armor.

'Shit.'

Feeling a bit courageous, he brushed a palm across one of the hands, unsurprised at the slight recoil yet thankful that it soon relaxed into Dart's grasp.

He swallowed the rising gurgles in his throat, not quite sure he could say anything that made sense. Parting his lips, he bit down on his tongue as a quiet, weary sigh was released upon his neck.

'Oh shit.'

His voice was barely audible. ". . . hey."

* * *

Pressing her chest against the arch of his back, Rose gently bit her lip. Such a simple welcome. She might have rolled her eyes if it had been any other time. Or if she hadn't been so damn tired.

Upon leaving Ulara, she promptly transformed into her Dark Dragoon, bursting into the air without thinking about much of anything. How quickly her energy had drained as she raced through the warm air currents of the Death Frontier. Engulfed in her dark armor, the dry air and blazing sun was all the more hellish. Despite the power of magically charged wings, escaping the vast expanse of desert was a tedious nightmare. When she finally spied the vegetation of southern Millie Seseau, she nearly collapsed onto the earth, her armor dissolving in dark flames as she stood for the first time in hours. It was nearly sundown. She felt not even the slightest presence of Dart in the area.

Maybe he was still at Neet. . . or he hadn't even gone at all, and she was a damn fool to assume he would.

Without stopping for rest, she continued her search on foot. If only she could find a sign of him. A small bit of ash from his magic. A muted whisper from his Dragoon spirit. As the hours went by and the slightest twinkle of stars shone in the sky, her steps began to drag upon the dirt. Her legs seemed to scream at her with every step. When she eventually did stop to take a break, there were merely traces of orange left in the sky. Kneeling in the shallow bank of a river, she dipped her palm into the water. Her body sang in relief as the cold, gentle waves lapped against her glistening skin.

It was then, nursing her parched throat, that she felt it.

A familiar warmth, flickering in the distance.

She stood abruptly, the pain in her legs suddenly a fleeting nuisance.

As if in a trance, Rose broke out into a desperate dash. Caring not for the sharp thorns of brush that scratched her bare skin along the way nor the bushes full of small wildlife she disturbed, she just ran, fearing is she relented there was a chance this small bit of warmth would be lost forever. Leaping over fallen logs and boulders, she frowned as the heat quickly became a full on blaze.

Stopping in her tracks, she peered between the trees at the small lit clearing, frozen by the sight of red armor.

Hesitating for only a moment, she licked her dry lips as she walked. The further she advanced, the tenser Dart's back seemed to get; as she stood just feet away, he was perfectly still. Her eyes running across his broad shoulders, she thought back to their walk in the dark halls of the Queen Fury. Only now, instead of looking at those broad shoulders with a strange mix of uneasiness and yearning, her eyes glazed over him, a bit sad he had yet to acknowledge her presence.

But then she glanced down at the unfamiliar fur coat he sat upon. So he had gone to Neet after all.

Carefully, she dropped to her knees, shifting forward until they brushed against his lower back. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she couldn't help but sigh out as she pressed against him. And then he spoke. Their first words in hours. Resting her head against his left shoulder, she breathed in the smell of dirt and sweat on his armor.

"Hey," she quietly repeated his greeting.

Then they were silent, the hushed sounds of their breathing filling the night. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his back hypnotizing, Rose imagined she could fall asleep then. Closing her eyes, she smiled as she felt Dart gingerly lace his fingers within hers. Her fatigue seemed all the more intense, the warmth he emitted enveloping her weary body in a soothing blanket. She caught her breath as his hand began to slide up her forearm. Forcing drowsy eyes open, she let out a noiseless moan as she felt his back moving forward. Dart seemed to notice her weariness and quickly slipped an arm around her waist as he shifted. The touch alone was enough to render her alert, but Rose stayed still, letting him readjust their position while just enjoying his hands upon her for once.

When he appeared to have settled, Rose turned her face towards his, finally getting a clear look at the man. The fire's light cast a peculiar shadow on his face, shrouding everything but his eyes and above. His brow was just as stiff as the rest of his body, set in a frustrated, upset scowl. Only his eyes were mobile, moving every so often from the fire, then the ground, once looking down at her lap.

Never directly to her face, but she didn't blame him. No amount of forgiveness would take away the pain he must feel from her other self's misdeeds. She had come to terms with that fact long ago.

But Dart? The man who always worried for others and danced around his own isssues. . .

"Rose."

Rose blinked, turning her gaze towards him. She was met with his azure eyes boring into her, filled with determination and sorrow and a whole plethora of things she couldn't quite label.

She was about to find out, it would seem.

"I went there." He paused, casting his eyes to the side as he searched for the courage to go on. "I went to Neet."

Nodding slightly, Rose took in a heavy breath. "How was it?" she exhaled.

"Hard." A faint, trembling smile played at his lips. "So fucking hard. . . but worth it." Sliding his hands from her waist, he briskly climbed to his feet and walked toward the fire. Just now noticing the meat roasting over the flames, Rose pursed her lips in thought. 'So it was that simple?' she pondered, folding her legs beneath her. Planting her palm into the grass, she leaned slightly on her side. 'He mustered the courage to face his past, and now he has no regrets?'

Glancing his way, Rose held her breath as she saw him approach her. Her eyes danced across his body, noting the long strides and clenched fists.

Stopping before her, he drew a long, deep sigh.

He knelt by her side, their faces inches apart.

"Rose," he whispered. "I. . . about what happened in Mayfil. . . " The anguish in his voice was nearly unbearable for Rose. And they were so torturously close, close enough for her to see the lingering red hue staining the whites of his eyes. She wanted nothing more than to hush him and kiss his melancholy away. She didn't need this. She knew it wasn't his fault. Even so, she sat motionless, watching in silent agony as her comrade, her best friend, her lover struggled to complete one simple sentence.

After a few seconds, his gaze fell to the ground.

"Dammit. . . I'm sorry, Rose."

Her stoic countenance crumbled then. Reaching out, she gingerly cupped his cheek, earning her a slightly stunned look. Shifting to her knees, she slipped her other arm around his neck. Dart wasn't in shock for long, snaking his own arms around her waist to rest on her lower back. As they held each other in a loose embrace, Rose gazed into eyes, hoping everything she felt then, the relief and joy, the exhilaration and fervor, the overwhelming rush of love, was expressed in her single expression.

Hesitating only to taste the sweet, warm breath exchanged between their lips, Rose pressed a delicate kiss against Dart's dry mouth, letting out the quietest of moans as he tightened his grip on her waist. Her fingers sneaked through his blonde hair, gently tugging as she felt the moist pressure of his tongue upon her bottom lip.

Opening eyes that had long fluttered shut, she peered into the hooded eyes of her lover. The sorrow and guilt lingered, blended with a fresh ardorous desire. Letting her head fall back, she sighed a wanton breath, gripping Dart's shoulder's as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Rose. . ." His breath was warm, a ghostly touch on her cold skin.

Her breath hitched at the delicate contact of fingertips upon her. His fingers danced across the smooth skin of her neck

". . . Rose"

Craning her head upright, she peered down at him. He had since pulled his face away from her chest, only his hand resting in the small opening near her collarbone and throat.

He was staring at something, mouth held slightly agape and eyes wide.

No, not at something. At what should have been there.

Her choker. Gone.


End file.
